A Voice Heard
by Sou7h
Summary: When I heard it, I loved you more than my own life.' Two Force-users, each struggling with a planet's worth of pain, find each other with the galaxy at stake. The atypical pairing of Visas/Exile.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from kotor. Wish I did.

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1. Heard

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"_From the moment I heard your voice across the galaxy, I have longed for you." - Visas Marr, to the Exile_

Visas walked down the corridor to her chambers, her steps echoing on the cold, metal walls. The sound was that of a ghost ship. Her Master was not a living thing; hunger, not food, sustained his being. And the ones who piloted his ship, his slaves as much as she was, were empty shells. Their existence was only for his bidding. Life as other beings knew did not exist for them.

They were dead, just like she was.

Her pace quickened. Her chambers were stark. Bare of anything personal. The door closed behind her with a hiss and she let out a small sigh of – what? Relief? There was no escape. But being alone was enough.

She relished this chance to travel outside herself, outside of this ship where she was a prisoner. Now she relished it for a different reason.

Slowing her breathing and clearing her mind, Visas reached out with the Force. She sensed the ravenous void of her Master and the dull flickers of the ship's crew. Further out, she could sense life, _real_ life, on other planets far away: raw emotions, freedoms, desires, hopes. And the distance that separated the two worlds seemed even longer than the light-years they were in reality. It used to be enough, this vicarious life, but it wasn't what she was looking for.

It was easier to find the echo, now that she'd been following it for a week. It was stronger than before. She followed the branching stems to its source. The roots.

The voice was small yet distinct from all the others in the galaxy. It carried a clear conviction – one that had been tested many times. And it was wounded. Scarred by another echo of tragedy and loss so like her own.

And like all sad things, it was beautiful.

Visas lingered. Studying it. Marvelling at it until she felt a cold presence enter her conscience. She tore herself away, but it was too late.

Her Master knew her secret.

Her only chance was to pretend that she had only just discovered it. The fact that she would even consider such a thing was ludicrous. But the mysterious voice gave her hope that something could be salvaged from her broken life; she wouldn't have to be powerless.

The bridge of the _Ravager_ was open to the emptiness of outer space. It was as though something had stripped away the flesh of the ship and left the bare bones.

Visas strode down the walkway, past the ship's crew, and kneeled before her Master. He did not turn.

She spoke. "I have felt it too, my lord. A disturbance in the Force."

Her Master asked why she had disobeyed him.

She hastened to explain herself. "It was difficult to make out, my lord. At first, it was such a quiet thing. I did not notice it. But now I wonder if it has always been there and I merely could not hear it before. The sound built so slowly, yet when you listen for it you can make out the strains even over the background life of the universe."

"Liar."

Fear fluttered in her chest. Visas could sense his anger, but the strength of his reaction surprised her. Was this voice somehow more special than she knew?

"Do you feel it is a –"

Her hands flew to her throat where her words and her breath had suddenly been crushed. But the force that crushed it could not be stopped by her hands. Not by anything. She was helpless.

"You are the darkness in which all life dies, my lord."

She struggled to squeeze the words out. Her vision was going black around the edges and she could feel herself falling...

The pressure on her throat disappeared.

She collapsed to the floor. She had hidden the voice to protect it, as if she could keep it to herself. There was no freedom. There was no hope. Her Master had shown her that. As she had in all existing memory, Visas wanted to die.

"All life," she gasped, "exists to feed your power. And my life, my life is yours. I beg you. Please ... let me die."

But he would not. Her life was still his. And now she had a new duty.

"Yes. This disturbance ... I can follow it to its source ... and bring it to you."

Her Master saw the folly, the weakness of her heart and warned her. Failure meant death. The voice would fall silent one way or another.

"I will leave at once, my lord."

She would need credits, but those were easily extorted or stolen. Visas left the bridge, feeling the malevolent eyes of her Master on her back.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I was going to make a oneshot of a different scene instead. But I decided that a oneshot wouldn't do the romance justice. Length of this whole thing has yet to be decided. Visas/Exile isn't exactly a common pairing, I suppose because of her character. It'll be interesting to figure all that out =)


	2. Chapter 2

Visas had forgotten what it was like to so far away from her Master.

Here, on Dantooine, she could breathe fresh air and hear more than empty silence. She could feel something more than Lord Nihilus slowly leeching her life force for his own. This was as close as she came to escape, even if it was only temporary.

It felt good. Visas was not used to feeling good.

This planet teemed with tranquility and hope and she sensed that it was the voice's doing. She wanted to let them be, if only to know that such things existed despite all she had been told. But she could not disobey her Master.

Finding the ship was not difficult; Khoonda was the only administration on Dantooine with a proper spaceport. Stealing aboard the Ebon Hawk proved to be even less of a problem. Using her stealth skills, she had sneaked inside at the same time a white-haired female entered. Visas found an empty dormitory and settled down.

And there she meditated, waiting for him.

The Force had guided her to this moment. It had a purpose for her, just as it did for everyone else in the galaxy. And she hoped that it would be her ally in the battle to come...

Through the Force, her mind raced ahead to minutes yet to pass. Visas saw the sparks and flashes of light as their lightsabers met again and again. She saw herself struggling and, ultimately, losing. She watched as he stood over her defenceless figure with his lightsaber in hand.

He was going to kill her. He would set her free. And she loved him for that most of all.

"Who are you?"

Visas turned to face him, flicking her saber alight in the same movement. She was prepared to fight. Prepared to die.

But she was not prepared for him.

It was like seeing a dream come to life, or staring into an intense, bright light. She was drawn to it and drawn into it at the same instant. She couldn't look directly at it, nor could she look away. The raw sound – so close to her now – was far stronger than the echo. And her love was far stronger than it had ever been before.

This was the last thing she would see. She would die happy.

The Miraluka attacked with no reservations and he spared her none in return. Her opponent blocked her feeble Force push easily and pressed the attack. She stepped back involuntarily. He was too strong for her, as she always knew he would be.

It was only a matter of time before he was successful. Her opponent's lightsaber sliced once across her midsection, and again along her thigh. The pain was excruciating. For a moment, Visas wondered if he enjoyed tormenting her, then she read his hesitation; he was looking for a way to spare her life.

_No_. If he didn't want to kill her, she would make him. She refused to face death at the hands of her master. She advanced with renewed vigour, forcing him to counter her blows with his own.

"My lightsaber...you have destroyed it. I yield...master. It is as I heard through the Force. My life...for yours."

"Arise, but do not attack me again."

"_Kill_ me, I beg you. I...it was not my wish to challenge you...and I must pay the price."

"I will not kill you."

_Why not_? Visas would not have hesitated. Her Master would not have hesitated. Could Nihilus be wrong? About the world, about the Force? About everything?

"I...have nothing to offer you. Your strength is superior...it is as I felt."

Exhausted and in agony, she collapsed to the floor. Blackness closed in, promising sweet relief. Visas surrendered to it gladly.

A sigh escaped her mouth and then –

Release.

* * *

_Is this what it feels like to be dead?_

Death felt like a dream. Visas couldn't feel much else; not her limbs or breath going in and out of her lungs. Her mind was hazy and slow. She couldn't move at all.

"Now I've seen everything," someone said somewhere above her head. "This woman...she's a Miraluka. I didn't think any were left in this part of the galaxy."

"What's a Miraluka?" That sweet voice. She wanted to answer it, but her lips wouldn't move.

"Yeah, they're a pretty secretive race. I heard that some of their kind become Jedi, but a Sith? That's...well that's a new one."

"I'm not sure how you'd go about killing one. It'd be tricky."

"Killing one?"

"Just mentioning it – she looks like she's suffered enough wounds already...even after the beating you gave her."

"Is she going to be alright?" It took her a moment to realize what was in his voice: concern.

"Well, some of her wounds are pretty bad – looks like she was already carrying her share of scars though. I think she'll recover, yeah."

"Let me know if she wakes up."

"Will do."

Receding footsteps, then suffocating darkness again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own kotor. If I did, I think I'd add some more romance in there ;). Actually, I don't even own the names Zannah or Fulier. Cookies for knowing where they're from!**

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Chapter 3: Feelings

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Tired but satisfied, Jaden boarded the Ebon Hawk. The cool darkness of the ship felt good after a day spent in Dantooine's hot, sticky summer. The effort hadn't been wasted; the farming community could live in peace now. For the Exile, peace was simple: all he needed was a shower.

He closed his eyes and let the hot water flush his sweat and worries down the drain. The steam turned the air around him to mist. His mind wandered...

"_General Fulier!"_

"_Corporal." Jaden turned to see Zannah jogging towards him. The two were as good friends as they could be in a war where you learned not to get too attached. Anyone could be your best friend one minute and dead the next._

"_So, weather hasn't been too nice lately, huh?"_

_The Jedi General laughed. It was a private joke between them. Sunlight struggled to puncture the massive clouds that wandered the sky. There hadn't been a week of clear weather since the Republic forces had arrived on the planet. The Mandalorians' artillery only made the downpours more frequent and the ground cratered and muddy._

"_What do we do now, sir?"One of his soldiers was staring expectantly at him. The girl couldn't have been older than fifteen, he realized sadly. This must be one of Revan's new batch of recruits, refugees left behind by the war. Jaden just hoped Revan knew what he was doing._

"_Whatever you want. Patrol is finished for now. Most people take a shower," he added when the girl didn't move._

_Jaden watched the retreating back of the girl who had asked him what to do. She looked vaguely familiar but he couldn't place his finger on why._

_"Zannah__, could you keep an eye on that girl for me?"_

"_She's a little too young for you."_

"_I don't like her like that," he snapped. "I just want to make sure she's safe."_

"_We're in a war, Jaden. I can't promise anything."_

"_I know. But do your best. Please."_

"_You're joking." Zannah shook her head. He sighed resignedly. "Fine."_

"_This better be the only one. You try to protect everyone and you'll end up with an aneurysm. Why her anyway?"_

"_I don't know," he confessed. "I just have a feeling."_

By the time he stepped out of the shower, his mind was back in the present. More specifically, it was on the unconscious would-be assassin lying in the medical bay. Atton seemed wary of her and so did everyone else; Jaden supposed they had good reason. She was the enemy, after all.

He dried himself off, changed into clean robes and made his way to the Medical Bay.

"Has she ever woken up?" he asked Atton, who was standing beside the doorway.

Atton shrugged, as if he didn't really care. But the scoundrel's eyes were trained on the failed assassin, his finger idly tapping the trigger of his blaster pistol. Ever since Jaden had chosen to spare her life, the Ebon Hawk's pilot insisted that someone kept an armed watch over the Sith.

But the Miraluka didn't look like a Sith. Her robes were not those of a Sith. They were a vivid red with some kind of animal hide on top for minimal protection and maximum mobility. A cowl covered the top half of her face. Layers and a hood; this was someone who wanted to be hidden, even in plain sight. Her pale skin – a contrast to her dark lips – was not veined or cracked like that of Dark Jedi.

_Who is she?_ He wondered.

"So you saved a Sith's life," Atton said. "Normally I wouldn't give a cannok's right butt cheek what you do. I don't pretend to know or even care what goes on in a Jedi's mind. But don't you think you're taking this altruism thing a little too far? She's a danger to everyone on this ship."

"Don't worry, I'm still keeping my eye on her."

"Yeah. So you won't keep trying to save everyone else we're supposed to be killing, right? Like, you know, _people who are trying to kill us?_"

"I won't," Jaden said flatly. He'd spared an enemy once before. And it had turned out to be a mistake. A mistake that cost him something he'd once traded hot showers for, and would trade so much more if the universe only worked that way. Except the universe didn't make deals.

"So then why doesn't your policy cover her? Is she special to you?"

The Exile blinked, searching himself for an answer. In truth, something about her intrigued him. When they had fought, something about her movements was hesitant. Reluctant. They lacked absolute conviction. Maybe she wasn't a Sith. Maybe she could be saved...

"Well?"

"I don't know. I just have a feeling."

"What – ?"

"Prep the ship for launch," Jaden interrupted. "Let me make a quick run for supplies and then we're getting off this rock."

"Fine."

He hadn't gone more than a step outside the medical bay before running into someone else.

"Handmaiden," he said, surprised. "I was just going to get some supplies."

"She is a threat to us," the Echani responded.

The Exile ignored her and started walking to the exit ramp. When she followed him, he sighed. "So you agree with Atton, then."

"You don't agree that she's dangerous?"

"I won't harm her, if that's what you're asking."

"I am not asking that she be harmed or interrogated, but she is of the Sith. And she has attacked us once. She should not be allowed to walk freely on the ship."

"Right," he muttered before stepping out into the Dantooine sun.

* * *

In the port dormitory, an old woman meditating sensed the thoughts of another. She sensed the anger, the raw passion, and the deep-seated fear of one who was wanting of love. Feelings that could be used.

And the old woman smiled to herself.

* * *

**Author's Notes: So yeah, writer's block totally kicked my butt which is why this took so long. The flashback might seem out of the blue and a tad unnecessary, but I want to add some depth to the Exile's character rather than just "love interest." I mean, there's so much to work with! I promise, it will be relevant down the road. Really. Next chapter: the infamous "loading ramp" conversation =).**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from kotor. Happy? Of course not, because now you don't get to sue me.

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4. Questions

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"Your name is Visas, right?" The voice was polite. Curious. The Miraluka didn't have to turn to know who it belonged to. "That's what Atton told me. I'm Jaden, by the way."

She rose to her feet and faced him in a single movement that she knew must be all too familiar. But his hand did not stray to the lightsaber hilt at his hip."My life for yours."

And she meant it. Her loyalty belonged to the voice that had called her back from the edge of the galaxy – the edge of life itself – to serve a greater purpose. It was the will of the Force.

"Are you all right?"

"I am able to serve. If we enter battle, I will fight and die alongside you."

"That's not what I asked," he said slowly. "I asked if you were all right."

"I...I have not heard that question in some time." Apparently, she had misunderstood it as well. It confused her, the question he asked and the way he asked it. Her Sith Master would not have asked. Would not have cared. Unsure of what the Jedi wanted to hear, she said hesitantly, "My flesh is healed if that is the answer you seek."

"In medbay, I noticed you had scars...who was it that hurt you?"

"The scars are many and the causes equally so. It is of no importance." Visas shifted self-consciously. Some were reminders of her Master's power. Others were souvenirs of his enemies. Her missions – too numerous to count or remember – often left her wounded. But she healed quickly enough to be ready when called upon to serve.

"So how did you find me?"

"I felt you – heard you through the Force. It was like a sound at the edge of hearing. And when I heard it, I found I could not ignore it."

His tone was surprised. "A sound? What do I sound like?"

"It is difficult to describe. There is a...a passion behind your voice that gives it strength. It creates echoes that reach farther than any I have seen before. And there is a purpose – as if its destination has yet to be reached."

He fell silent for a moment. "When I defeated you, you said that it was not your wish to challenge me...so whose wish was it?"

"It was my Master's. I am his emissary. His scout."

"Was he behind the destruction of Peragus?"

"I am not familiar with the place you speak of."

"Are you sure?" He pressed eagerly. "Did he take over a ship called the _Harbinger_? Does he have an army of Sith assassins?"

Visas shook her head. "My Master has not entered Republic space for some time. But there are many factions within the Sith, all with the same purpose: the death of all Jedi, everywhere."

"I am no Jedi." Visas detected a note of bitterness, but did not ask.

"But they believe you to be and so long as you exist, they will hunt you."

"Then let them come," he said darkly. "I'll fight them with everything I've got. And when I reunite the Jedi Masters, we can finally end this."

So that was his quest. The purpose behind his voice.

Suddenly, the ship rumbled beneath their feet.

"We're coming out of hyperspace," a voice chirruped from the Jedi's comlink. Visas recognized it as the pilot's – the one Jaden called Atton. "Nar Shadaa's straight ahead."

"I should see if Atton needs anything," he explained. "Sorry about all the questions. You just...didn't arrive under the best of circumstances."

An apology... "It was nothing."

"If you were serious about fighting beside me, I think there's an extra lightsaber in the cargo hold. When you find it, meet me in the main hold with everyone else for a general briefing."

His voice was authoritative without being unkind. This was someone meant to be a gifted and natural leader. Visas could imagine him as an effective commander with many willing soldiers. He was born to lead and she was compelled to follow.

"Very well."

He turned to leave.

"Forgive me," she blurted out, "but before you go, I must ask. Why do you do this? Why do you seek to help me? To teach me?"

"I don't really know...I guess because I believe you can be saved."

"You must not do this. I cannot allow you to weaken yourself for me."

"Helping someone doesn't weaken you. It makes you both stronger."

"So you say, but it is not something I have seen for myself."

"Then I guess I'll have to show you when we get to the surface. But for now, I'll see you in the main hold."

He left, leaving her with more than enough to think about. Jaden's companions viewed her with everything ranging from caution to blatant suspicion and she understood that; it was too soon to expect them to treat her as an ally when it wasn't so long ago that she had been their enemy. But Jaden himself was different. He trusted her aboard the ship and now with a weapon. Visas wondered if he extended this trust to all the strangers he met. If he did, it might bring harm to him and that was something she could not allow.

Although she hadn't known what to expect, he was nothing like she would have ever imagined him to be. She supposed it shouldn't be surprising, as she only had a Sith Lord to compare him to. He was intriguing and utterly alien to the world she was used to living in.

She decided to reserve her judgement and meditate on it later. For now, she had her orders.

* * *

As it turned out, Atton didn't need help with anything. Jaden didn't stay in the cockpit long; he didn't like the bright screens and constant whirring and beeping. When he asked the _Ebon Hawk_'s pilot how he dealt with it, Atton answered that you got used to it after a while and it was when something _wasn't _beeping that you should worry. Droids and machinery, he could deal with. But too much constant light and noise for too long gave him headaches. The Exile had spent pretty much the entire Mandalorian Wars getting used to them...

_Jaden walked along the cratered, wet ground, the mud sucking at his boots. Maybe it was foolish to wander so far from camp alone, but he needed the only spare time he'd had in weeks to clear his head. The tide of the battle was turning and Revan was taking full advantage of the momentum swing. He had only stopped when Jaden insisted that the troops couldn't go any longer without a rest._

_The further from the encampment he got, the more he felt at peace. It was so quiet here: no constant discharge of blaster fire or cannons, no barked orders, no whine or whir of machines._

_No screams of the dying._

_As he crested the hill, a large lake with a surface as flat and reflective as glass opened up before him. It could have been natural or just a man-made crater filled with water; there was no way to tell._

_Surprised, he noticed a lone figure standing at the water's edge. As he drew closer, he realized it was the girl he'd made a deal with Raina to watch over. The girl's name was Jasra, his friend had told him. She'd also told him that she was sweet and innocent, the kind that had no place in a war._

"_Private Calen?" He called. She started and spun around._

"_General." She gave a clumsy salute that he waved away._

"_What are you doing here?"_

"_I – just a walk, sir."_

"_All the way out here, so far from camp?" He asked angrily. "You could be killed by a stray Mandalorian and no one would know! What were you thinking?"_

"_I could ask you the same thing," Jasra answered stubbornly, even though Jaden never gave her permission to speak freely._

"_That's sir to you. And that's exactly why it's not the same; I'm a general and you're a private."_

"_So how does that entitle you? You should be more worried anyway. No one cares about a rank-and-file soldier. You're the important one. _Sir._"_

"_It's too dangerous here. You could run into something you can't handle."_

"_I'm not leaving until I feel like it."_

_The general sighed inwardly. Why did this girl have to be so difficult? Raina hadn't said anything about her being so headstrong, Jaden thought stubbornly. But knowing Raina, the corporal probably thought that was being sweet._

"_Why do you even care what happens to me?"_

_Frustrated, Jaden bit his lip. He'd wondered about it himself, but there was no logical explanation. Why _did_ he care?_

_Looking at the surface of the water, he found the answer._

_With them mirrored in the lake, Jaden could see that they shared the same-shaped eyes. The long, oval face. The same chin. The same fierce expression._

"_What's your homeworld, Jasra?" He asked quietly._

"_What? How do you know my first name?"_

"_Answer the question. It's an order."_

"_Deralia," she said tersely. Jaden's homeworld. Not that he remembered much about it. "It's a farm world on the Outer Rim. Why?"_

"_Tell me about your family."_

"_Where is this going?"_

"_Answer the question."_

"_My dad died of disease when I was small. Then my mum remarried and gave me my step-dad's name. I used to have a brother but Mom never told me what happened to him. When the Mandalorians started bombing the surface, I was across the river with the animals. By the time I got back..." she trailed off, her voice quavering. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."_

"_You said your mom remarried. What was her surname from the first marriage?"_

_She too, looked into the lake. Jaden could see her reflection staring up at him from the water._

"_Fulier."_

* * *

Visas was not expecting to meet someone in the cargo hold.

The woman seemed slight at first glance, but a second revealed her to be deceptively lean and strong. Her stance was straight and proud and she held her staff casually at her side. She was a fighter; the Miraluka did not doubt that.

"What is it you want from me, Sith?" The words were harsh and clipped, as though the fighter was biting back the impulse to snap.

"I am only here to retrieve something from the hold," Visas answered, careful to keep her voice neutral.

There was only one container in the corner of the room. After a quick search, she discovered that it contained nothing but several utility items.

"Looking for this?" The warrior pulled out a small metal cylinder with a button on the side of the hilt. A lightsaber.

"Yes."

The woman made no move to give the weapon to Visas, nor use it to challenge her. She merely held it, examining it intently.

"So this is the weapon of the Sith," she whispered.

"It is also the weapon of the Jedi."

The female warrior's head snapped up to look at her. "But you are no Jedi."

"I do not serve the Sith now. I serve Jaden."

The woman bristled. "You serve him? You tried to kill him! What do you even know about the Exile?" _Exile_...was that the cause of the bitterness behind his words?

"I know that he asked me to retrieve the lightsaber from the cargo hold," Visas said calmly.

The fighter's gaze fell to the lightsaber once more. "He wanted you to have this?"

Visas felt a twinge of impatience. "Is it yours? Do you know how to use it?"

"No," the woman admitted grudgingly. "I am not trained in its use. I was only admiring its design as a weapon. Its craftsmanship."

"It is a beautiful tool."

The woman nodded slowly, as if agreeing with Visas was painful.

"Will you let me have it or not?"

She hesitated. "You may use it to harm him if I give it to you."

"He chose to give it to me. Would you go against his word?"

'Fine," the woman responded icily, tossing the weapon roughly. Visas caught it deftly.

"I believe we are needed in the main hold."

"So it would seem."

The warrior followed after her, as if unwilling to leave her back exposed or let the Miraluka out of her sight.

* * *

Jaden wandered down the corridor that connected the cockpit to the rest of the _Ebon Hawk_. There was still some time to kill before the pilot could put the ship safely in autopilot for the debriefing. He had half a mind to just wait in the main hold when, through the force, he felt a flicker of discontent from one of the freighter's occupants.

Curious, he followed it to its source: the port dormitory.

"Kreia?"

"You have befriended the seer." Her tone was thick with barely-disguised disapproval.

"You mean Visas?"

"Her species does not see as we do. They perceive the galaxy through the Force. It is a rare gift. One that is squandered on her people."

"You don't seem to like her much."

"No. Whether you intend salvation or slavery, she is a threat to us."

"I would never make her my slave."

"Indeed. She serves one of the greatest of the Sith. She is the most trusted and only apprentice. Yet you spare her. Why?"

"Because I think we can help each other."

"We shall see...there may be value in such a choice to keep her alive – or perhaps not."

"I wasn't concerned about the value."

"Whatever your intentions toward her, keep them restrained. And do not mate with her. Such a union would breed trouble."

"Just because I saved the girl doesn't mean I want to charge up her loading ramp."

"We shall see. Her presence here is a threat to us. To you. Do not underestimate her or her loyalty."

His thoughts went back to Visas' comments. Her deferential, servile manner. Her concern for her well-being, however misguided it was. Everything about her had seemed sincere. "She swore herself to me before she passed out. And she hasn't tried to hurt me since."

"You spared her and then armed her without a second thought," Kreia snapped. "Not all people act quite so bluntly as you do. You forget that the best plans are subtle."

"So I suppose you think I should keep an armed guard on her like Atton wants me to? You want a curfew and some Force cuffs with that?"

"I want you to be on your guard. And should an opportunity arise where sacrificing her will serve the greater goal, you must be ready to seize it, no matter your feelings about her."

Jaden opened his mouth to answer, but Atton interrupted him from the doorway.

"Everyone's waiting for you." The scoundrel glanced at Kreia's furious gaze. "Er, I can tell them to wait if you're busy."

"No, we should get a move on as quickly as possible," the Exile said, already heading for the main hold.

After a moment's pause, Kreia followed him.

* * *

**Author's Note: **An extra long chapter to keep everyone happy for a while... in the previous chapters, I kept the dialogue exactly as it is in the game. But for this chapter, I realized the many problems with using the ingame dialogue as is: real conversations are not one-sided interrogations, people would find it strange if you just suddenly changed topics in the middle, and people don't just blurt their life story out after one prompting (and yes I know that's what the influence system is for, but it's just so damn easy to gain influence with Visas it can't possibly be realistic). I tried to keep it as similar as possible without sounding mechanical. Hope I got it right.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** So maybe some of you thought I had dropped off the face of the Earth, but I actually got side-tracked and then wrote at the pace of a one-legged tortoise. That was hopping through maple syrup.

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own kotor or anything Star Wars. But I think you knew that already because otherwise, this would be canon and not fanfiction ;D

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, Jedi and" – Atton inclined his head towards Visas – "Sith, I give you Nar Shadaa: the Smuggler's Moon. Never will you find a place more packed with those who are desperate and those who exploit them."

Visas ignored the quip and leaned towards the hologram in the middle of the Main Hold. It was a planet, revolving slowly to give her a full view of the sprawling metropolis on its surface. The view zoomed in to show lanes full of speeders, tiny figures dotting skywalks and buildings she couldn't see the bottom of. A bustling hive of life and activity.

"The Refugee Sector," Atton said grimly. "You have the Exchange on one side, the Serreco thugs on the other and all the refugees caught in between."

"From the Mandalorian Wars or the Jedi Civil War?" Jaden's expression was unreadable.

"Both."

"Why would a Jedi Master come here?" Handmaiden asked.

"All these emotions: desperation, violence, despair...it makes it difficult to detect one through the Force. He is using it to hide," Visas answered.

Handmaiden glared at her, but Jaden didn't seem to notice. "Well, we have to start looking somewhere."

"Indeed," Kreia mused. "Do not forget that there is always more than one way to find what you seek...or else lead it to you."

"Right. Visas, Handmaiden – you're with me when we get planet-side. Everyone else, keep the ship on standby and safe. This place is bound to have some unsavoury sorts, to say the least."

Atton sauntered off in the direction of the cockpit. The Iridonian retreated to the engine room. Both Handmaiden and Kreia disappeared down a hallway. Visas took the extra time to meditate while the Ebon Hawk descended to Nar Shadaa's surface.

Nar Shadaa was wounded because its people were wounded; the Miraluka didn't have to scratch very deeply beyond the surface to know that. The damage wasn't a cause itself, but rather the effect. Not the actual sound, but an echo. Like Dantooine.

Like Jaden.

* * *

"You have seen it."

Handmaiden jumped, spinning around but seeing only shadow. "Who's there?"

Kreia stepped forward, revealing herself. "I know what troubles you, servant of Atris. And I have come because I have seen it too."

"Seen what?"

"You know of what I speak. He has spared the Sith."

There was no reason she should be afraid of an old woman, Handmaiden told herself. Her heart was just pounding in her chest because Kreia had startled her. Still, she could neither explain nor dismiss the feeling that there was something unsettling about the old Jedi. Perhaps it was the fact that she could never see her eyes. Or the fact that she had never heard her coming or knew she was hiding.

"He trusts her..." The statement was true enough, but lacked conviction.

"But you believe he shouldn't, as I believe he shouldn't. And if his trust shows to be misplaced, it is you and I who must protect him. Who must stop the threat before it becomes a threat."

Handmaiden paused, trying to determine if Kreia's intentions were sincere. "Why me?"

"The pilot may try, but we both know a Sith's skills are far beyond that of a fool's. The Iridonian trusts too blindly in the Exile's judgement to act before it is too late."

"She hasn't done anything after she recovered."

"I did not mean to say that the time for action is now. Possibly, there may never be such a time. But should she make the slightest move, I must be able to count on you."

"If you want me to watch, I am already watching. But I will do nothing more."

"We must stand together in this, you and I."

Handmaiden didn't answer. Could she really trust this woman?

"I admit," Kreia said grudgingly, "that although I am his mentor, he has always seemed to have a preference for you. He trusts you. He listens to you. He likes you."

Handmaiden felt a swelling of pride. It was true; after their mission together on Dantooine, Jaden had personally said that he could've never accomplished it with anyone less. And they continued to spar together, even if he didn't know what it truly meant...

"You hold a certain...influence with him that I don't have," Kreia continued. "But if that influence is not enough, we must do what is right for the Exile."

Handmaiden nodded. "For the Exile."

* * *

_Jaden sat alone in his tent in total darkness. Darkness used to scare him when he was a small child. Not seeing, not knowing what could be around him scared him. But that was before he met Revan, and his friend showed him that you didn't need light to see._

_It was silly, the things that scared children. There were far more real, more terrifying horrors in the galaxy._

_A peal of laughter rung outside his tent, stirring the peaceful silence and his macabre thoughts. That was another reason he kept the light off; if his tent was dark, the soldiers would think he was sleeping and he wouldn't be forced to join in the celebrations._

_The planet was almost taken. There were only a few key strongholds left and, with the Republic blockade preventing any enemy reinforcements from arriving, they had neither the manpower nor the firepower to resist._

_But the victory felt hollow to him. It wasn't that he no longer believed in the cause he was fighting for, but the fighting itself drained his body and spirit to the point where victory brought him no joy, just a short-lived sense of relief before the next battle he knew was coming._

"_Like to be alone, do you?"_

_The flap to the tent opened and Jaden caught a glimpse of Raina's silhouette before the darkness swallowed it._

"_It didn't stop you from coming in."_

_A lamp flickered on and he squinted as his eyes adjusted._

"_Isn't that ironic. Someone who's so good with people prefers to be left alone."_

"_I suppose." The two stared at each other for a long moment._

"_I can leave if you want me to," she offered._

"_No. Please." He would only go insane wallowing in his own depression, not find a miraculous answer to it. Besides, being with Raina was no less comfortable than being alone – maybe even more comfortable. Strange how there were so many people who liked and admired him and he still felt lonely._

_She looked uncertain so he smiled reassuringly._

_But something must have given him away. "You look sad."_

"_This is a war. There's no happiness in war."_

"_But for now at least, we still have friends alive. Good friends. And that's enough in war." She grinned back, a sincere version of what Jaden had attempted, but more playful._

"_How can you always see things that way?"_

_She pursed her lips, thinking. "I hold on to what I have. We all do. Because if we let go, we don't just lose everything – we lose ourselves too."_

"_I didn't think you were the philosophical type," he teased, leaning back on his arms. "Maybe you should've been born a Jedi."_

_Raina snorted. "I wouldn't be caught dead in those stuffy robes. Don't those itch? Patience really is a virtue."_

_He laughed. "They're actually quite comfy. Take a while to dry, though." He noticed his friend's frown. "Something wrong?"_

"_Nothing's wrong. Just...I came here to tell you something but I didn't know if it was the right time," she said, uncharacteristically serious._

_He leaned in. "You could've told me any time."_

"_It's not something you say in front of everyone."_

"_Well I'm listening now."_

_She took a deep breath – _

"_Jaden?" A small voice interrupted from the tent's entrance. Jasra stood by the tent flap, looking small and confused. Her gaze flickered from her brother to Raina and back again._

_His friend gave him a strange, mildly disgusted look and he thought of how it must seem through her eyes._

"_Raina –"_

"_Now isn't a good time," she said quickly, standing up to leave._

"_I told you it isn't like that," Jaden tried to explain, but his friend had already pushed her way out of the tent._

* * *

"Like to be alone, do you?"

Visas rose and turned. "My life for yours."

Jaden waved the greeting away. "You don't always have to be so formal. We're all allies here. Friends."

"I do not think anyone on this ship would call me a friend."

"I would."

The Miraluka thought that ironic, seeing as how he was the one with the most reason to hate her.

"So maybe the others don't like you too much," the Jedi continued, "Don't take it too personally; they can barely live with each other without any heads being ripped off and you just happen to be the new addition to our ragtag little bunch. You'll get used to it. And they'll get used to you."

"Perhaps," was all Visas could say. Her thoughts drifted to the Echani in the cargo hold.

With a final bump and groan of machinery, the _Ebon Hawk_ stopped.

"We're here. It's going to be you, me and Handmaiden going down that ramp. Us against...well pretty much the entire planet."

He said this very coolly, as if not bothered by it at all. The Miraluka wondered if it was due to confidence or just a statement of fact.

"It doesn't worry you?"

The Exile shrugged. "I heard they have some nice cantinas around here."

Jaden cocked his head when she didn't answer. "It was a joke, Visas. Well, kind of anyway – I wouldn't mind a nice cold ale right now."

She made a final check of what she needed: lightsaber, a few medpacs. She had no other possessions besides the clothes on her back."I am ready to serve," she said.

She made for the doorway and he stepped aside to let her pass. Visas was almost out of the room when he spoke.

"You're just like Handmaiden," he said quietly with what the Miraluka perceived as a hint of sadness. "The way you two live, it's like you've never laughed a day in your life. But I guess we all have our scars. Visible or not."

He followed silently behind her and she wondered at his scars. And if he could see exactly how deep her own scars ran.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **I do not own KOTOR or any characters except for Jaden and those in his flashbacks (excluding Revan and Malak, who will show up eventually).

* * *

The first thing Jaden noticed when he took his first step on Nar Shaddaa was the smell. It stank like a mixture of garbage and animal droppings: a stark contrast to the crisp air of Dantooine. Not a good first impression, but the Exile hadn't exactly started with high expectations; things could only go downhill from here.

"This place smells like a dump," he said, resisting the urge to pull his robes up over his nose.

Atton took a deep breath and sighed. "Ah, the sweet stench of decaying hopes and dreams." He shrugged when Jaden shot him a revolted look. "What? This entire planet _is_ a dump. You get used to it after a while. Okay, a long while."

"Hey you!" A Toydarian shouted, his features twisted into an angry sneer. "Who told you that you could let that piece of junk sink its dirty struts into my landing pad, huh? I got other people coming in, so unless you want it crushed, you'll take it somewhere else. Preferably up your –"

"The Exchange told me I could land here," Jaden lied smoothly, using the Force to make his words more persuasive.

It didn't seem to work exactly as he had hoped, but at least the alien had changed his tone. "Yeah? Well this is the first I've heard of it. Let me check it out – if you're clear, then you're clear, no trouble."

Jaden could feel Visas shift her position slightly into a ready stance he knew could turn into a battle stance at a moment's notice. She was preparing for a confrontation.

"Go ahead," the Exile said smoothly, his face impassive. "I'll be sure to let the Exchange know you delayed me from making my drop."

The Toydarian stared at him a moment. "Never mind, it's not worth the trouble."

"Good." As soon as the alien left, Jaden breathed a sigh of relief. "That was close. Atton, keep the ship ready to fire up when I give the word. We might have to make a quick exit later."

"The way trouble follows you around, I don't think we'd survive on any less." The scoundrel disappeared into the ship along with almost everyone else, leaving the Exile standing with Visas and Handmaiden on the landing pad.

Jaden glanced at Visas. Lying to avoid confrontation wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind when he'd promised to show her the advantages of altruism, but he hadn't seen any way around it.

As it turned out, they only had to turn the corner for trouble to catch up to them. Two armoured thugs – one Weequay and the other Trandoshan – were threatening what Jaden assumed was a refugee. "You wander too far, human. We warn you what happen, but your kind not listen. Break legs, maybe you not wander so far."

"What's going on here?" The Exile interrupted and both thugs turned to meet him.

"Exchange business," the Weequay answered coolly. "Not for seeing unless you want to lose your eyes." He ran a finger along the blade axe he held loosely at his side.

"I won't let you hurt anyone."

"Little human doesn't know what he getting into with us," the Trandoshan hissed.

Jaden ignited his lightsaber. "You've got it the other way around."

The battle lasted only briefly: the thugs were little more than novices with what were more their showpieces than weapons. Their clumsy strikes posed no real threat to the many combined years of training the Exile and his team had received. Within a minute and several, measured strokes of a lightsaber, the Exchange muscle men fell cleanly.

"Thanks for your help – they would've crippled me for sure." The man couldn't have been younger than fifty. The shabby, filthy clothes only looked more ill-fitting on his emaciated form and the yellow tinge to his pale skin suggested disease. A helpless victim.

Jaden felt his anger and disgust well up like bile, burning the back of his throat. It made his muscles tense and his words terse. "Why did they want to cripple you?"

"They work for the Exchange – more specifically a Quarren named Visquis who's looking to get a step up. The only language the Exchange respects is money, so he's trying to increase his profits by keeping the refugees here holed up in one place to use as a cheap labour force," the old man said bitterly. "We're only good to him as slaves and merchandise."

"And where can I find this 'Visquis'?"

"You don't. He comes to you, if he's got reason to – either because you can help him out or because you're making trouble. Either way, it's nothing good."

"That's all I wanted to know. You should head out of here before you run into any more trouble."

The refugee smiled, but the expression looked pained – as if he'd forgotten how to do it properly. "Whatever your reasons – thanks."

Jaden nodded and watched the refugee leave.

Visas shifted uneasily. "Why did we interfere?"

"Hmm?" His mind was still on the Exchange. He'd had his own run-ins with the crime syndicate now and again on his travels in his exile, even though he'd avoided from most urban zones. Jaden had no idea their influence could overtake an entire planet; things had obviously changed since he was away.

"Why did we help that man? Surely it would attract unwanted attention."

Jaden blinked and tried to gather his thoughts. He'd completely forgotten. "If it gets under Visquis' skin, then the attention is more than welcome – their suffering has been ignored for long enough. The galaxy would be a much better place if people treated each other with kindness and respect...but they often need to be shown the benefits to believe it."

"Of course. Acts of kindness...I had forgotten."

"You wouldn't know anything about kindness," Handmaiden remarked sourly. "Sith only ever think of themselves."

"The Sith just embody the worst of what we see in ourselves," Jaden answered.

The Echani looked surprised. "But the Sith are evil."

"The world isn't as black and white as your mistress wants you to think. There should always time for second chances..." the Exile trailed off into memory...

_The white hot fury, spreading through his body like wildfire – consuming all common and moral sense. Uncontrollable. Unstoppable. A flash of fear in his victim's eyes that only fuelled the inferno. A roar of raw passion in his heart so primal that it could scarcely be called human..._

"Is something wrong?" The Miraluka asked tentatively.

Jaden closed his eyes, blocking out the painful memory as he had taught himself over many years. He could not show uncertainty, not while Visas needed reassurance. How could he convince her of something he didn't believe in whole-heartedly? No, he wanted to believe. He _needed _to believe.

He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, once more the picture of a strong-willed general.

"It's nothing."

* * *

"I won't let you harm him. I have heard of your kind: you worship strength, when all it does is rot you from within."

"I cannot harm him. His wound lies deeper than any blade could reach. And that is why I follow him. Protect him."

"Protect him? I do not believe you."

"You do not believe that I would follow him to death? Certainly you must have read as much in my movements...as I have read in yours. There is no shame in your feelings, sister of the Echani."

"You know nothing of which you speak!"

"All who walk this ship are wounded and you are no exception; I can feel its pulse, like a heartbeat from the past."

"Do not pretend for a second that you know anything about me."

"No...You feel that there is only one person who could ever truly know you and I feel the same. Are we so different, you and I? Always walking the edges of what we wish we could have, looking for some way to fit in but not knowing if it is even possible..."

"Do not compare me to you! I am no Sith!"

"And neither am I, not any longer. If you believe nothing else, believe this – I wish to learn from him. I wish to learn how it is he still walks when his spirit is nothing more than an empty shell...when you feel as though life itself has abandoned you. I had a question: the exile...what does he look like?"

"I don't owe you the answer."

"You can look upon him as I can never hope to. I merely wish to know. Please."

"Do you...feel for him as I do?"

"What does it matter? Nothing can come of it, you know this as well as I."

"He looks like a man...but it is more than that, and I do not have the words. He walks the path of light and wields the Force, yet refuses to be called a Jedi. And I find that I cannot help but follow him. There is a feeling that emanates from him, like...like a sound, from far away, that has travelled a vast distance to reach here. Like..."

"Like an echo. Your words are well chosen."

* * *

For once, the Exile wished he had his own quarters.

It never used to bother him; war had made him so accustomed to discomfort that he could sleep anywhere. If he wanted a bed, there had always been the spare dormitory. But that belonged to Visas now and he would gladly take his own discomfort over that of any of his companions.

He considered drowning himself in ale until he didn't care where he slept, but even that didn't seem like enough. Not today.

The ship was quiet except for Atton's snoring from the cockpit. Jaden pulled up the holographic image of Nar Shaddaa again, watching the revolving planet until it was almost hypnotic. He examined every scrap of data, every view of its surface he could find. Jedi Master Ell could be anywhere.

The Exile leaned heavily against the holoprojector. He couldn't think properly, not as exhausted as he was. What he needed was a distraction...

"You are troubled," Visas said before Jaden even opened his mouth.

"I – it's just a little stress."

"That is understandable. The burden you have chosen is not an easy one to bear."

"Sometimes, I don't feel like it's a choice at all," he admitted. "It feels like the Force is guiding me, pushing me to do what it wants."

"Then it has entrusted this task to you because you are capable."

"It just seems impossible. So many places to look and we're always on the run..."

Visas paused. "You once told me that to do good is to better the world and one only has to believe it is possible to make it so. That I cannot lose hope, because if I lose hope then I have lost myself. You taught me to hope when I forgot how...and now I remind you."

Jaden smiled faintly. "Someone once told me something like that too. And I guess I needed to hear it again. Thanks."

"It was nothing."

"I shouldn't be keeping you awake." The Exile turned to leave.

"Was it Handmaiden who said that to you?"

He stopped in his tracks. "No, it was someone else – someone you didn't know. A long time ago."

"You said 'didn't know.' He or she is dead?" She asked softly.

Jaden shut his eyes. _Block it out..._ "Yes."

"I'm sorry. May I ask what happened?"

"Old age," he lied.

"Then it was a peaceful death."

The Exile forced himself to nod once before all but running from the room. Once he was in the main hold, he collapsed against the wall and his memories collapsed on him. It was useless to try to look away when it kept staring him in the face. It was useless to resist...

Jaden was glad he didn't have his own quarters. Then no one could find him. No one could learn the truth - the real cause of Raina's death. The secret behind his shame and guilt.

_I killed her.

* * *

_

**Author's Notes:** You probably noticed that there weren't any flashbacks in this chapter, which was deliberate (haven't decided if I'll have a super long flashback next chapter yet). I know some people hate cliffhangers, but I'll give you a clue: Revan had something to do with it. Have a happy new year, everyone!


End file.
